Tiny Bubbles
by goldiejefferson
Summary: A short glimpse, post Cops & Robbers, of how Castle & Beckett deal with PTSD.  First fan-fiction so be kind :
1. Chapter 1

**Tiny Bubbles**

The warm water surrounded his hands as he gently rubbed away the last bits of Mother's gourmet meal. Even on nights like this when it seemed like every dish in the house had been dirtied, dish duty never bothered him. He found that there was a gentle rhythm to the process that was soothing. Alexis usually dried and stood at his elbow, towel at the ready, a perfect companion in their post meal ritual.

Tonight, however, he was breaking in a different partner. Not surprisingly, Beckett didn't quite get the drying routine though. She had freely admitted that she was more of a take out girl than gourmand and so was excused when she almost dropped a plate or bowl. It made him smile as he stared at the dissolving bubbles wondering how long it would take to train her.

Dip, rub, swirl, repeat. Dip rub, swirl, repeat. He needed the soothing rhythm more than usual tonight. The final dish in his left hand he reached for the sponge floating in the last bits of white soapy bubbles.

White. Foaming. Gurgling. Convulsions and screams.

"Castle? Castle!"

He heard his name and couldn't understand where the sound was coming from. Who knew his name here?

Cold tile, the smell of -what was that?- sharp, acidic...more screams and a shadow in front him falling, falling, calling.

"Castle!"

There it was again but with more urgency and an intimate tone that few had used before.

He felt something slip into his hands and grip them tightly and slowly the scene shifted from Sal's foaming mouth to wide green eyes and long lashes.

"I think I might let the rest of the dishes soak? What do you say?" He knew it was a sad attempt at humor but bless her, Beckett played along. She nodded and Castle realized that she was the one gripping both his hands. He followed her lead from the kitchen and gratefully sat down on the couch sinking into the softness.

"Wow." He ran his hand through his hair and knew the residual soap bubbles must be leaving it on end. "That was unreal. I mean I've researched PTSD flashbacks for Derrick Storm but never thought they would be so vivid, happen so fast and be, so...so real. How long was I out of it?" He turned to look at Kate who had quietly settled down next to him, her long legs tucked under her in a familiar, protective manner.

"Not long. A minute. Two" her voice was low and slightly raw at the edge. "Are you ok?" She looked over at him and her fingertips rested gently on his shoulder.

"I think so...it must have been the soap. It brought me right back to Sal on the floor. I could even smell...his sweat! That's what it was! How do you think he did that by the way? How did he fake the seizure so well?" he paused and leaned forward with both elbows on his knees and continued. "I mean, do you think there are drugs that can temporarily bring on those types of symptoms? Isn't that quite a risk though. I mean what if something went wrong with one of them...it's good though, gotta remember that ..."

His voice tapered off and he glanced over at the other end of the couch. He was struck at how young she looked and how much she belonged there, curled up with a cushion in her lap, watching him with a small smile on her face.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"You amaze me Castle. I mean you almost died today. You obviously just had a PTSD flashback but you can still happily pull from this whole thing a potential plot twist for a future book?"

"Lemonade my dear detective...lemonade" Castle sighed leaning back against the cushions once more. But his face became more serious and his smile quickly faded away.

"I was so, so angry, you know. Not scared, surprisingly," he looked at her to see if she was following his train of thought and continued when he got the slight nod. "When he had the gun to my throat I was so pissed! I could only think about...Alexis...having to recover from her dad being murdered and Mother... watching it happen right in front of her, and you...you having to listen to it over the phone...how you didn't need this."

Beckett slid to his side and gently placed her fingers on the side of his slightly bruised neck instantly silencing him.

"Is this it?" she said gazing at his neck, not making eye contact. Castle nodded and lowered his eyes. He felt her hair first, just a few wisps as they brushed his cheek and chin as she lowered her lips to the arch of his neck. He didn't mean for it to happen but the warmth of her breath, her lips, the softness of her hair made him close his eyes, lean back and moan.

That's why he never saw it coming. She was on his lap facing him and when he opened his eyes his fantasies were in 3D and high definition. Kate Beckett. Straddling him. Leaning down to kiss him. He barely had time to register this change before her lips crushed against his. And they were unrelenting, hungry and he realized that this wasn't going to be the romantic, tentative, passionate first-time he longed for but the other track on his playlist - the angry, desperate, drunk sex scene. She was wild, out of control, trying to consume him and he responded in turn. At first. But it was too much. He couldn't help wonder where this was coming from. If this wasn't her own PTSD moment where she tried to erase the events from this afternoon and block out the potential tragedy with this instead.

She had him pinned to the back of the couch and it took all the control he had to sit up, pick her up and slide her off of him to the other side of the couch. When she realized this was not a temporary position change she locked eyes with him. Without a word, she read the look on his face, climbed off the couch and started filling the breach in her wall while searching for her shoes. Castle rubbed his face and tried to compose himself but she was halfway to the door before he trusted his legs to stand.

"Kate, c'mon I just didn't want it to be like..."

She silenced him with a look and without a sound walked out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

She really expected him to come after her. It was almost a given; how they worked. The dance they did, the push and pull. But even as her embarrassment and shock drove her out the door and down the hall there was something nagging at her that told her this was different. This time he had pushed her away, not just physically but with the look on his face that said it all.

He didn't want her, not the way she thought, not the way she had come to expect especially over the past six months.

So no, she wasn't entirely surprised that she made it to the elevator without him calling her name. But when she got in the cab and it pulled away from the curb without the doorman Eduardo running out to stop it, she knew she was entering a new reality.

Her apartment was cold and dark. She had forgotten that she went directly to the loft from the precinct. She never considered her apartment cozy but the silence and chill in her living room compared to the warm voices and laughter earlier that evening pissed her off. Even the lighting at the loft was softer and warmer than her own lamps let out. She angrily shut them off, curled up on the couch and let the darkness come over her.

The sound of a door closing abruptly woke her up. She sat up looking around, fully expecting to see Castle standing in her doorway with a steaming cup of coffee. Instead she heard the neighbor's dog across the hall shake his collar waiting for his walk. That would put it at about 5:30 am. She had slept four hours and instinctively as she did anytime she slept without interruption she reached for her phone. This time she wasn't looking for a text from Lanie or info on the latest vic. She was looking for him. The lit blank screen gave her the answer.

10:00 am and his empty chair next to her desk kept pulling her gaze away from the screen. Not helpful since Iron Gates had declared today -refocus and reorganize day - or something similarly inane. Seems she didn't take kindly to Beckett's moonlighting as a hostage negotiator. So on this beautiful fall day in New York Kate was organizing her inbox, waiting for the file room to bring up cold case files and listening, slightly amused to Ryan and Esposito talk about their trip back from Ithaca.

"Beckett, do you even know where Ithaca is? It's No Where!" Ryan moaned. Seems after the four hour drive up north, time doing paperwork and four hour drive back even Esposito was re-thinking the impromptu road trip.

"Not my fault, bro," Esposito countered over his egg and cheese bagel. "You really wanted them to take the bus?"

"No. Of course not. Just next time you volunteer for a rescue mission can we keep in it the five boroughs?"

"Yo, Beckett, where's Castle? Didn't you go to the Old Haunt with him last night? Post-case wrap up tradition." It wasn't Esposito's use of her name but rather Castles' that snapped her head up.

"Not sure guys. I thought it was your night to watch him?" It sounded hollow but it was enough for the boys and they continued their chatter over greasy finger food.

Beckett's stomach rolled and she realized she hadn't eaten since Martha's meal over twelve hour's ago. But hunger wasn't the problem. She had skipped many meals before. She needed to get away from the empty chair.

"That smells good guys, I'm heading to the food truck on Broome. Call me if you, or anyone else, needs me," she nodded towards the Captain's office. She caught them mid bite so with a wave of their bagels she was off.

Once out on the sidewalk breathing in the November air she let herself relax. But the silence followed her. No murders so no reason to call him and yet she wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to...what did she want? Isn't that what she needed to figure out. Their time on his couch last night hadn't been enough that's for sure. His scent, his skin and then the look on his face right before she kissed him warmed her as she walked along the sidewalk. God she wanted him. And she thought he did to. He had wanted her at least initially. The physical evidence was irrefutable. She could see it in his eyes and felt it undeniably straddling him. But then what happened? What changed so dramatically in an instant? And why did she fly out the door so fast before finding out?

But even more importantly, why did he let her?

She found herself at the food truck in line with the other office and construction workers lining up for a mid-morning snack. She randomly ordered a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of coffee that she knew as soon as it was in her hand she would throw out one block later. Castle had ruined her coffee truck days years ago.

Her feet took her towards the intersection really without her noticing. The day was so perfect, the job back at the precinct so mind numbing that she would have walked anywhere. But her boots knew this route by heart and if she shut her mind off that's where they would take her. So she let them. Mindlessly nibbling on the warm gooey bagel she followed Broome to the end and stared up at his building. She tossed what was left of the bagel and took a step towards the doorway when she caught a glimpse of him getting out of a cab.

He was yakking it up with the cabdriver and she couldn't help smiling. Castle could have an engaging conversation with a mime. She walked towards them just as he went around to the trunk and banged on it, universal sign to the driver to pop it open. It was then that she realized he wasn't exiting the cab, he was putting a garment bag into it.

She hadn't realized that she had stopped walking in the middle of the street until a horn startled her and she saw him look up. His face wasn't readable because of his sunglasses, but she could tell he saw her. Instead of getting in the cab he said something to the driver who pulled up to the curb, obviously intending to wait his fare out.

They walked toward each other and met at the curb. She noticed he was wearing the suede jacket she loved, and when he took off his sunglasses his eyes matched the blue of his shirt perfectly.

"Hi." she said quietly hoping to gather his mood from his tone. "We missed you this morning. You going somewhere?" her eyes glanced towards the cab, engine still running.

"Out of town book signings. Just talked to the guys to see how Tanya and Connor made out." His clipped responses were indications that this was going to take some effort. Her effort.

"Do you have to leave right away? Can I buy you a cup of coffee so we can talk?" It was so hard to say those words without sounding needy, desperate, especially when there was a fluttering in her chest that actually made her feel both.

"Meter's running."

"Oh. Ok. When will you be back?" She watched him as he put his sunglasses back on essentially breaking their connection and trying to end the conversation.

"Not sure. Paula lined up a few cities I haven't hit before. Given what's happened seemed like a good time to get away."

"Castle...please. Rick...let me say this quickly and then you can go. Last night, I was, I was scared, tired, relieved and emotionally spent. I wanted to do something that would take the pain away. For both of us. Make that fear of what we could have lost yesterday go away." The words spilled out of her faster than she could think them up. But she knew she had surprised him because he removed his glasses again and was carefully watching her face. It was a race against the clock, or in this case meter, for her to convince him that she was wrong and sorry...truly sorry.

"When I realized you didn't want that, didn't want _me_, I was embarrassed and did what I do best. I ran away." She finally stopped talking and looked up at him, realizing that somehow the space between them had narrowed, she wasn't sure who moved towards the other.

"I am so sorry. I messed up. I should not have presumed we wanted the same thing and I definitely shouldn't have left." She couldn't have put more emphasis on the words and she watched his face to see if they were enough.

He moved closer to her and ran his fingers lightly down her arm. She shivered at and simultaneously cursed the goose bumps that followed in his wake. Her head dropped and followed the movement of that hand, using her hair to shield her face and her emotions. But he knew her moves, as he would. When he reached her hand he stopped and lightly held it waiting for her to meet his gaze.

"Kate," his voice was low but steady. "Last night had nothing to do with rejection, believe me. When it happens, I don't want it to be about erasing anything. Bad memories, fears, hurts, scars. I want it to be about creating. I want it to be about us." She wasn't sure when she stopped listening to his words and started watching his lips instead.

"When, Castle?" she reached up to run her hand over his jacket, an excuse to leave her hand on his chest above his heart.

"Yes, when. Not if. Because, this," he covered her hand with his own. "This. Will. Happen."


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow...thank you so much for the reviews and encouragement. I'm trying really hard to keep true to the characters. I love them both but really wanted Castle to take a stand. I'm in some really new writer's territory with some of this stuff blush Not sure I'll be able to keep it up but we'll see what the next few days bring about. Enjoy! **

**Tiny Bubbles **

Riding in the cab on the way to the airport he replayed the scene in his head. Richard Castle had made Detective Kate Beckett blush. After four years of innuendo, an occasional accidental knee or fingertip brush here or there he had seen her eyes go a little unfocused and her steely resolve start to come apart. He thought he saw a whole section of that Beckett wall crumble. And he did it by being honest and, admittedly, throwing in a little more bravado then he usually felt around her. But they were having a moment out on that curb. He knew it. Just as he knew last night that he _wasn__'__t_supposed to follow her when she ran out of the loft even though every cell screamed at him to do it. The door had barely clicked shut, his hand was on the knob and he had every intention of catching her down the hall, in the elevator, in the lobby. It didn't matter. He was going to press her against the wall and show her how wrong he had been to push her away.

But he hesitated and that's when it happened. Castle actually felt their relationship shift around him. And he began looking at it from a different perspective. His own.

He turned and looked at the couch where moments earlier she had gently kissed the spot where the gun muzzle had pressed. It was such a rare, tender moment between them. He had caught a brief glimpse of it yesterday in the bank when she smiled at him in a way he had never seen before. It was uninhibited. It was true. It was magnificent. And he craved more. More tenderness, more openness, more of her.

He'd spent the remainder of the night reviewing their relationship from this new perch. It all made sense now. She never gave more because she never had to. She never had to extend herself outside of her comfort zone because he was always right there, usually with a cup of coffee. When she pushed him away, he came back. When she batted his nose with a newspaper, he came back. When she yelled at him, threw her boyfriends around in his face, didn't call for months, he came back. Again and again he came back. She expected it from him. She knew what she was going to get from him no matter what. No wonder she skipped the foreplay and went right to the main event. That's what you do when you want one thing and know where and how to get it. He had become her good old standby. He practically wrote the playbook on that approach.

Painful as it was he rewound all the cases and conversations. He cringed as he reviewed these through this new lens. And all the while, his phone sat dark and still, mocking him on the table. She wasn't going to call him. Why would she. In all the years they had been together he couldn't remember a time where she had apologized or reached out to him because he was hurting or she was wrong. And his iphone lay there silently agreeing with him.

The decision was made at five but he waited until seven to make the call. Although she tried to hide it, he had clearly woken Paula up when he called to tell her he was ready to do those book signings she had been bugging him about for weeks. She recovered well, knew enough not to inquire about the timing but rather started chirping away about Tampa, Naples and Miami, how much he was going to love getting away to the warmth of Florida. Was he going to rent a car or did he need a driver? Did he want the Golf or Beach Ritz Carlton in Naples? Would a one bedroom suite work at the Delano or were Martha and Alexis tagging along? Her chatter actually grounded him for once and he began to look forward to getting away.

His anger had faded as the sun rose but he packed his garment bag with a set determination. He had moved past worrying about hurting her. Rather he hoped to stop hurting himself.

"Oh, Richard, are you sure about this?" Martha took a sip of her orange juice while Castle finished the final packing. "I can tell something's bothering you and I have a feeling it has to do with our lovely dinner guest last night. Running away has never really been your style."

"Mother, you know I always fly in the face of fashion," he smirked at her and turned as Alexis trotted down the stairs.

"Hi sweetie, I'm off to the Sunshine State to keep you and Grams in shoes for the rest of the year! I'll be back in 3-4 days, Paula has the itinerary and she should be emailing it to you later this morning." He hugged her taking in her sad eyes and wanted to kick himself. "Oh. Man. I totally forgot about you and Ashley breaking up last night. I'll call Paula to cancel."

"No, dad, don't. I have school and my friends and Grams to keep me company. I'm fine. Go schmooze those fans of yours. It's what you do best!" Alexis put on the best fake smile she could and gave him a hug.

"Alright. Lucky for me you are the worst liar in the world but I know I leave you in good hands. Behave ladies. I will bring home warmth, sunshine and the love and adoration of many Richard Castle fans!" He bowed to them as he backed his way out the door. Once in the hall he checked his resolve and headed to the elevator.

It was almost a clean getaway. Damn Eduardo for taking the day off. The new guy was helping Mrs. Flaherty in 3C with her mail and he was left hailing his own cab. Eduardo would have had one waiting for him and he would have been gone but instead he had to haggle with a few who didn't want to make the trip to Newark.

The horn made him look up and seeing her standing in the road unnerved him. She looked stunned. Castle suspected it was less because she was about to become road kill and more because she realized he was leaving. Anger swelled up in him again.

Kate's eyes seemed different but he figured it was the fall light filtering through the leaves left on the trees. Her voice was softer and had a sense of urgency to it that he hadn't really heard before. But when she started talking and didn't stop he had to take a hard look at the woman standing before him. To make sure it was really Kate Beckett. She was babbling. Honestly babbling about rejection, hurt, fear and remorse. She was sorry. Truly sorry. Even before those words came out he could tell. He knew he was seeing more raw and true emotion from her than she was used to showing. She was essentially standing naked in front of him and instinctively he wanted to shelter her from the harsh manhattan sights and sounds.

Instead Castle touched her and her shiver and made him happier still. She felt. His writer's voice took over and he smiled again. He knew that going away was the right thing to do but he would be back and when he came back he was going to make Kate Beckett do more than blush. He was going to make her quiver.


End file.
